Rockabye
by Keitorin Asthore
Summary: Burt and Mollie had just gone out of town for two weeks. They thought Kurt would be all right with the babysitter while they were gone. There was no way they could have known what kind of monster they had handed their four-year-old son off to. Heavy trigger warnings. Oneshot. COMPLETE.


Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

One in Four belongs to swinggirlatheart and is borrowed with her kind permission.

Trigger warnings for sexual abuse of a minor.

* * *

"I'm worried, Burt," Mollie said softly, gazing down at their sleeping child's face.

Burt sat down on the edge of the bed. "Why?" he whispered. "Still worried about last night?"

He reached over and brushed a lock of hair off Kurt's forehead. "It's not like him," Mollie said. "It's not like him at all to scream, and kick, and cry, even when he's scared."

Burt watched her stroke Kurt's cheek gently. He looked so small in the middle of the big bed, his pajamas loose, all tucked up around his waist, one hand clutching Mollie's fingers even in his sleep. "You think something upset him?" he asked.

Mollie sighed heavily, rubbing her thumb over Kurt's soft knuckles. "We shouldn't have left him," she said. "Not for so long. We haven't been apart from him for more than a night or two. We were gone for two whole weeks. That's a lifetime for a kindergartener."

"He'll be okay," Burt said. "I bet he'll be a little clingy for a while, but he'll settle back down."

He leaned over and kissed Kurt's forehead lightly. Mollie adjusted the quilt around him. "He still feels warm," she said. "I think I'll keep him home from school tomorrow. Tuesday too." She stroked Kurt's soft hair. "Maybe that's all he needs, just a little mama-son time."

"Maybe," Burt said. He watched Kurt breathe deeply, his tiny chest rising and falling. "Maybe."

Mollie rubbed the soft bare skin of Kurt's little belly. "Here, can you get him up and get him to eat breakfast while I'll take a shower?" she said. "I'll take him grocery shopping with me, maybe take him out for frozen yogurt. Do you think that'll cheer him up?"

Burt bent and kissed her upturned nose. "I think so," he said. "Stop looking so anxious. He'll forgive you for leaving for two weeks."

"I hope so," she said. She leaned over and kissed Kurt's forehead. "KK, wake up, lovey. Time for breakfast."

Kurt screwed up his face and shifted closer to her, sticking his thumb in his mouth. "No, Mama," he murmured, burying his face in her chest. "No, no."

"Aren't you hungry?" she asked, kissing his cheek.

He shook his head. "My tummy hurts," he said around his thumb.

"I told you he felt hot, Burt," Mollie said. "Maybe he's coming down with the flu or something."

Burt leaned over and stroked Kurt's hair off his forehead with the back of his hand. "He's a little warm," he admitted. "He should eat something though."

He reached down and picked Kurt up, but the four-year-old immediately let out a wail, wriggling around to reach for his mother. Mollie sat up. "Baby, it's okay," she said, cupping his chin in her hand. "Go with Daddy. He'll make you some breakfast, and then you and I will go grocery shopping. And we'll go get frozen yogurt, and maybe we'll stop by Toys R Us. How about that, hm?"

Kurt shook his head violently. "I don't want it, I don't want it," he said tearfully, wriggling out of Burt's grip and reaching for Mollie. "No, no."

"Mommy's just going to take a shower and then she'll be right back," Burt said, holding on tightly to his small son. "It'll be okay. We'll just get something to eat, okay?"

Mollie kissed Kurt's small palms. "I'll be right back," she promised. "Be good, okay?"

Apparently that was the magic word, because Kurt stopped fighting and sank back limply in Burt's arms. "C'mon, scooter. Let's go," he said. Kurt sucked on his thumb silently as he carried him downstairs. "You have a good time while Mommy and Daddy were gone?"

"Yeah," Kurt whispered, still clutching the collar of his shirt.

Burt sat him down at the kitchen table, dropping him down in his chair. "All right, kiddo, what do you want for breakfast?" he asked. "There's not a lot, but it looks like there's some oatmeal. You want some oatmeal?"

"No," Kurt said, and he folded his arms and dropped his head on the table.

Burt frowned, but he pulled out the little instant packet and stuck it in the microwave "It's your favorite, buddy, the kind with the dinosaur egg marshmallows in it," he said. He pulled the warm bowl out of the microwave and stirred it up a little. "I don't have any milk for it, but I think I got it pretty thin like you like. Here, eat something."

"Not hungry," Kurt mumbled into his arms.

Burt smoothed his hair. "Just eat a little bit," he entreated. "Why aren't you hungry?"

Kurt just shrugged apathetically.

Burt put the spoon in his hand and nudged the bowl a little closer. "Three bites," he said. "Just like always. If you take three bites and you still don't want it, you can be done."

Kurt scooped up a tiny bit of oatmeal and licked at it, just a little. "My tummy hurts," he said.

Burt sighed. "Kiddo, just two more bites," he said. "And stop whining, okay? You just need two more bites, and then if you really don't want anymore, you can be done."

Kurt took another bite, his blue eyes beginning to well up. Burt rubbed the back of his neck and bit back a deep exhale as he dug around in the pantry in search of something to eat for breakfast himself. Good thing Mollie was going grocery shopping, there wasn't really much to eat in the house, and-

Kurt's oatmeal bowl and spoon clattered to the floor in a loud crash. Burt slammed the pantry door shut and whipped around to see his son spitting up the few meager bites of oatmeal he'd eaten over his pajama shirt and the floor. "Oh, kiddo," he said, dismayed.

"My tummy hurts," Kurt pleaded again.

Burt walked over to him and knelt beside his chair. "Mollie?" he called. "Mollie, come down here."

He picked up the bowl and spoon, setting them back on the table while he kept a supporting hand on Kurt's back. Mollie walked into the kitchen frowning, her hair damp over her shoulders. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"He ate about two bites of oatmeal and hocked it back up," Burt said. "He's a mess, Moll."

"Poor baby," Mollie said, reaching for him. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up and back into bed. How about a bath, hm?"

"No," Kurt said, shaking his head. "No, no, no, I don't want one. I don't like baths. I don't like 'em anymore."

"You need to get cleaned up," she said, adjusting him on her hip. "A warm bath will feel nice. C'mon, sweetie."

"You take care of him, I'll clean this up," Burt said. "You can write the shopping list and I'll get whatever you need." He squeezed Kurt's little thigh. "Better keep him in bed for today, I guess."

"My tummy hurts," Kurt repeated pitifully, whimpering into his mother's neck.

"I know, sweet thing," Mollie cooed, carrying him up the stairs. "I know, it's okay, Mama will take care of you."

Burt got up and grabbed the Lysol and an old dishrag from under the sink. This was one of his least favorite parts of being a dad. He loved his little boy, but sometimes he just got really tired of getting stuck with the cleanup parts.

"Burt!" Mollie suddenly screamed. He froze. "Oh my god, Burt!"

Burt dropped the sponge and ran up the stairs. "What's wrong?" he demanded, pushing the bathroom door open.

The bathwater was running in the tub, but Mollie was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Kurt on her lap, dressed only in his little boxer briefs. "I was trying to get him to take off his pajamas and he started crying," she said, her voice shaking. "He was fighting me. And then…I just reached for him, and I grabbed his hip, and…he just started screaming that it hurt and then…he hit me. He hit me, Burt, and he's…he's never done that. Ever."

Burt switched off the bathwater and sat down on the floor across from his wife and his little boy. Kurt huddled in Mollie's arm, his thumb in his mouth as he stared blankly at the bathroom floor, his blue eyes glazed over. "Hey, scooter," he said gently. "Why'd you hit your mommy? You love Mommy, right?"

Kurt blinked, sucking harder on his thumb. "He's never hit me before," Mollie whispered, pressing her cheek against the top of his head. "I don't know if he's angry, or scared, but…I've never seen him act like that."

Burt inched forward. "Where on his hip did he say it hurt?" he asked.

"His left one," Mollie said, kissing Kurt's temple gently.

Burt reached over and touched Kurt's hip. The little boy stayed very still, his eyes still dazed. "Does that hurt?" he asked. He tugged lightly on the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down over his hip. Kurt sagged further in Mollie's lap, still and spineless. Burt prodded lightly at his soft fair skin, but Kurt didn't lash out or yell. He just whimpered a little, squirming under the gentle touch. "I don't see a bruise, but it seems like it's hurting him."

"Baby, what happened?" Mollie asked. "Did you fall?" She looked up at Burt. "If he got hurt while we were gone and John didn't tell us about it, I'm going to be furious."

"Scooter?" Burt said, tilting Kurt's soft little chin so he could look him in the eyes. "Did something happen while we were gone? Did you get hurt?"

"We had fun," Kurt whispered. "Like you told me. It was gonna be fun."

"Honey, did you get hurt?" Mollie pressed. "You have to say yes or no, okay?"

Kurt bit at his ragged thumbnail. "I didn't think it was fun, Mommy," he whispered.

"What wasn't fun?" she asked. She looked over his head at Burt, terror in her eyes. "What happened while we were gone?"

Kurt's cuticle ripped, welling up in a dark drop of blood, and Mollie cupped her hand over his to keep him from biting it again. "I didn't think it was fun," he repeated dully. He leaned his head on her shoulder. "My tummy hurts."

"I know, kiddo, I know, but you've got to tell us what happened while we were gone," Burt pressed.

"We played games," Kurt said, hiding his face in Mollie's neck.

"What kind of games?" Burt asked. It was getting harder and harder to keep his voice calm. "Did you play Mario Kart? Or board games?"

"No," Kurt whispered. "We played games in my bed. I didn't like it."

All the color drained from Mollie's face. Burt just stared blankly at his four-year-old son- the splotches of red on his pale cheeks, the fogged-over daze in his eyes, the way he sagged limply against his mother…and suddenly the pieces fell into place with a sickening crack.

"C'mon," Burt said, scooping Kurt out of Mollie's lap. "We're taking him to the hospital."

"Oh my god," Mollie whispered. "Oh my god, oh my god, my baby…what have we done, Burt?"

He seized her shoulder. "Not now," he said fiercely. "Not now. We'll think about it later. We've got to get him checked out by a doctor, and we need to catch that bastard."

Mollie dashed hastily at her eyes. "He was flying out of town," she said, her voice thick. "To South Carolina. He's…oh, god, he's interviewing at a private school out there." She held out her arms. "Here, baby, let Mommy hold you. I'll get you dressed."

"Let's just get him there as fast as we can, okay?" Burt said.

Mollie had Kurt dressed in clean pajamas and in the car in ten minutes, wrapped up snugly in his baby blanket with his elephant tucked under his arm. Burt drove as fast as he dared while Mollie sat beside Kurt's booster seat in the back, holding his hand tightly in both of hers, and parked as close to the emergency room entrance as he could.

Burt scooped Kurt out of his carseat when they got there, letting him lean heavily on his broad shoulder, and grabbed Mollie's hand. She was still completely white, her lips bloodless, and her fingers were shaking in his. He squared his shoulder and walked them into the emergency room, but he faltered when the nurse at the front desk glanced up at him and handed him the sign-in clipboard.

"I think my son got molested," he blurted out instead of picking up the pen, and saying it out loud made it feel like someone had just stabbed him in the chest.

The nurse stood up. "Sir, are you positive?" she asked.

"We went out of town for two weeks and left him with a babysitter," Mollie said, her voice small and strained. "He's…he's not acting the same, and he keeps saying all these awful things, and…I know. I just know."

Kurt shifted a little in Burt's arms, sucking lethargically on his thumb. Burt patted his back, trying to soothe him. "Please, we've got to get him checked out, and we've got to get the police involved," he said. "If you're not going to help him, we'll just find somebody who will."

The nurse got up from behind the desk. "We'll get him into triage," she reassured him. "But one of you'll have to stay with him, and one'll have to talk to the police."

"I want to stay with Kurt," Mollie said immediately, reaching for her little boy. He leaned into her, resting his head on her shoulder. "I'll take care of him, go talk to the police."

"Okay," Burt said, leaning in to kiss first her cheek, then the top of Kurt's head. "It's gonna be okay, little girl. It's gonna be okay."

He was having trouble believing that.

They took Kurt and his wife away, whisking them off down the hall and out of his line of sight. He waited for the police to arrive, and when they got there he told them everything he could think of, every seemingly insignificant detail. They told him they were sending a crime unit to the house, but he kept insisting that they needed to find _him_, to find John Truman, and they kept promising him they were taking care of it.

It seemed like hours before they let him go, and the second they dismissed him with a "we'll let you know when we've learned anything, Mr. Hummel," he went in search of his little boy. They'd moved him up to a single room in pediatrics, and he didn't miss the sympathetic look from the nurse when she directed him down the hall.

He walked into Kurt's room, knocking lightly as he entered. Mollie didn't even glance up. She was sitting on the edge of the little bed, stroking Kurt's hair and holding his small hand. Her eyes were red and swollen, but Kurt was sound asleep, an IV taped to his free hand and a pacifier tucked in his mouth.

"Hey," he said softly.

Mollie started guiltily. "I know, I know, we finally broke him of the pacifier, but he was crying _so hard_, Burt, and they wouldn't let him suck on his thumb during the exam, and one of the nurses offered, and it calmed him down, so-"

"It's okay," he said, kissing the top of her head. "How's he doing? Did they find anything?"

Mollie nodded. Kurt was gripping her hand tightly in her sleep, his slim little knuckles going white. "They're going to come back and tell us the official diagnosis in a little bit," she said. "But it doesn't look good, Burt. At all." She took a deep breath, brushing at her eyes with the back of her free hand. "I'm going to have nightmares for the rest of my life about the sexual assault exam. I've never heard him cry like that. He was screaming like…oh, god, I don't even want to think about it."

"Don't think about it," Burt soothed, reaching over to brush a stray curl out of her eyes. "Just worry about our baby, all right? We're going to get Kurt through this, and everything's going to be okay."

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. Mollie closed her eyes and nodded, her hand still twined around Kurt's little fingers.

A kind-looking older woman in a white doctor's coat knocked lightly on the door. "Mrs. Hummel?" she said.

Burt sat up; the woman walked over to him with her hand extended. "You must be Mr. Hummel," she said. "I'm Dr. Weller, I've been taking care of Kurt."

"Nice to meet you," he said sharply. "How's he doing? What'd you find?"

Dr. Weller stood at the end of Kurt's bed, her hands folded. "We did a thorough examination and ran a few tests," she said. "I hate having to say this, but I'm afraid that we found evidence that Kurt has been raped repeatedly over the past few weeks."

Mollie closed her eyes, squeezing Kurt's little hand in both of hers. Burt covered his mouth with his hand. "Shit," he breathed. "Holy shit."

"It's good that you brought him in as soon as you did," Dr. Weller said. "He's already started healing, but there's still some significant trauma. He's been in so much pain that he's been too scared to use the bathroom. That's why he's been telling you his stomach hurts- his system is all backed up. We're running him on an IV drip to keep him hydrated and we've given him something to help with the pain and make things a little easier for him."

"How long are you going to keep him here?" Burt asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Just till tomorrow morning," Dr. Weller said. "I'd like to keep him here so we can observe him- make sure he's still healing properly and his system is clearing up like it should."

Mollie bent to kiss Kurt's round cheek, unable to speak. "Do you think he's going to come out of this okay?" Burt managed to ask.

"Well, the good news is that we've run a full panel on the blood sample we took, and he's clear of any sexually transmitted diseases," Dr. Weller said. "I've also already spoken to one of our advocates, and they've contacted an excellent therapist to meet with Kurt before you leave tomorrow. I highly recommend that you seek some kind of counseling for him, perhaps even medication depending on his needs."

Mollie just nodded, her cheek pressed against her sleeping son's. "We'll do anything," Burt said, his voice thick. "Anything he needs. We just want him to get better."

"He's very young, Mr. Hummel, and young children are often a lot more resilient than adults expect," the doctor said. "I think with proper medical attention, counseling, and a lot of patience he'll pull through just fine." She smiled. "Right now I'm just concerned with Kurt getting plenty of rest right now. If you have any questions or need anything, don't hesitate to call for a nurse, all right?"

Burt nodded. Mollie didn't say anything, just cuddled closer to Kurt. His long lashes were beginning to part a little, and as the doctor left the room he opened his eyes all the way, wide and drowsy.

"Mommy?" he mumbled around his pacifier.

Mollie tugged it from his lips and bent to kiss the corner of his little mouth. "Hi, KK," she said. "How are you feeling? Is your tummy a little better now?"

He nodded, still half asleep. Burt squeezed his arm. "Hey, scooter," he said. "You're gonna be in the hospital just for tonight, and then you're going home, okay? And Mommy and I will be with the whole time."

He kissed Kurt's forehead and was rewarded with a soft little half-smile. "Where's Raleigh?" Kurt asked in a small, pitiful voice. "I want Raleigh."

"Here, lovey," Mollie said, handing him the stuffed elephant. "What else will help? What can Mommy and Daddy do to make it better? Do you want Mommy to snuggle?"

She reached for him but he slapped at her hands and pulled away with an unhappy whimper, burying his face into Raleigh's soft plush. Mollie jerked her hand back like she'd been burned. Burt swallowed hard. Kurt was always affectionate- had been since he was a baby. Not anymore.

"Can Mama stay close to you?" she whispered. She rubbed at her eye with the back of her hand. "Please?

Kurt hesitated, then nodded, scooting over for her to lie down beside him in the narrow hospital bed. Burt handed her Kurt's baby blanket and she tucked it around him. "How's that? Is that better?"

He nodded and leaned his head towards hers on the pillow, reaching sleepily for his pacifier. Mollie didn't try to fight him, even though she'd spent most of the last year trying to break him of his habit.

"Mr. Hummel?"

He glanced back to see a grim-faced police officer waiting at the door. His stomach sank, but he got up without his wife noticing and walked over to him, his heart beating erratically in his ribcage.

"What'd you find?" he asked, his voice low.

"We're still not done with our search of the house, but your son's attacker covered his tracks pretty well, it looks like," the officer said. "But not as well as he thought. The sheets on the child's bed were clean, but they found traces of semen on the mattress. Pretty recent."

The officer kept talking, but Burt couldn't hear anything past the stunned roar in his ears. He acted like he was listening, nodded at the right times, but nothing sank in. The officer left, and Burt staggered back into the room and sank down in a chair, his heart aching as he listened to his wife sing their baby back to sleep.

It was a rough day that faded into a rough night. Kurt refused to let either parent out of his sight, and he kept his pacifier, his elephant, and his blanket all close by. They watched movies and cartoons all day while Kurt dozed on and off, and they both tried to coax him into eating something even though they couldn't get him to eat more than a few bites at a time.

Both of them stayed the night with him, taking turns sleeping and sitting beside him. Kurt slept poorly, tossing and turning and crying through scary dreams, and he wet the bed in the middle of the night- something he hadn't done since his potty training days.

But they got him through, and the doctor discharged Kurt the next day, appointments already in place for a follow up and a meeting with a therapist. Mollie helped him change into his own clothes, cooing over him and kissing him, while he sat there quietly with his formerly-abandoned pacifier in his mouth.

Burt went out to the front desk to go over the discharge paperwork, and as he sat down in the waiting room, the morning news on the television caught his eye.

"Yesterday, airline security officials arrested John Franklin Truman at Charleston International Airport as he disembarked from his plane after local authorities in Lima, Ohio, issued a warrant for his arrest on an allegation of child molestation. Investigation revealed that the victim, a four-year-old little boy, had indeed been raped multiple times in his own home by Truman, who had been babysitting at the time. If convicted, John Franklin Truman could face life without parole, but authorities are investigating possible connections with previously unsolved child molestation and rape cases. And now, moving on to our weekend outlook…"

Burt set down the pen, his stomach churning. It was all beginning to sink in just how…how deep all of this ran. His little boy- his innocent, sunshiny, happy little boy…he was never going to be the same.

"Daddy, I think we're ready to go," Mollie said as she walked up to him, Kurt cuddled up on her hip. Her eyes were ringed in dark bruises, but she was smiling a little bit. Kurt was still solemn, his blue eyes wide, his soft hair combed neatly over his forehead. Nobody would know just by looking at him what Kurt had been through, but his parents always would. Burt knew, his heart sinking, that every time he saw his child, all he would be able to think about was how he failed to protect him.

"Yeah," Burt said, exhaling slowly. He took Kurt from his wife's arms and let him curl up against his chest, his head on his shoulder, his warm little weight reassuring and steady in his embrace. Kurt sighed against his neck, his blue eyes closing, and Burt kissed him on the cheek. "Yeah, let's go home."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

****Apparently me and angst have been good friends lately.

My favorite WIP right now is One in Four by swinggirlatheart, and Margaret and I have recently become friends, and she's been letting borrow her stories and plot bunnies to write drabbles! Originally this was just going to be a drabble, but then...it got long.

It's kind of hard to go into the backstory for this if you haven't read One in Four, but hopefully you understood what was going on even if you hadn't. For those who have read it- basically this is what would have happened if they had found out about Kurt's abuse immediately and been able to take care of things right away.

And also there is Mollie, because we've discovered I can't handle writing a mom for Kurt who isn't Mollie.

I'm just too attached...

So yeah! Let me know what you thought of this! And read One in Four if you haven't!


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